


not every wave is a tidal wave

by mothicalcreatures



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, M/M, Post-Canon Fix-It, Recovery, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:55:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28869648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothicalcreatures/pseuds/mothicalcreatures
Summary: Henry’s eyes slid shut and he sunk a bit deeper into the water.John had secured this room for them as soon as they had disembarked from theEnterprise.It was small, but the bed comfortably fit two and Henry had nearly wept in relief when John told him they would be able to get hot water brought up so he could have a bath.
Relationships: John Bridgens/Henry "Harry" Peglar
Comments: 20
Kudos: 58
Collections: Bridglar Week 2021, The Terror Bingo (2020)





	not every wave is a tidal wave

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Bridglar week, not for any prompt, just for the boys and for the Terror Bingo prompt "Holystone."
> 
> A huge thank you @annecoulmanross for betaing this. 
> 
> The title is from Tidal Waves by The Mountain Goats.

> **ho·ly·stone**
> 
> /ˈhōlēˌstōn/
> 
> _noun_ ; a piece of soft sandstone used for scouring the decks of ships
> 
> _verb_ ; scour (a deck) with a holystone

Henry’s legs shook as John helped him into the bath, and he groaned softly as the warm water lapped at his fragile, bruised skin. 

“All right, Henry?” John asked softly. 

Henry nodded, sighing as he relaxed against the back of the wooden tub. “Th’ water feels nice.” 

“Good, good, just rest for a moment, I’ll be right back with the soap.” John lifted Henry’s hand to press a kiss to his knuckles briefly before getting to his feet and retreating to the other side of the room.

Henry’s eyes slid shut and he sunk a bit deeper into the water.

John had secured this room for them as soon as they had disembarked from the _Enterprise_. It was small, but the bed comfortably fit two and Henry had nearly wept in relief when John told him they would be able to get hot water brought up so he could have a bath. 

It had been hard to feel truly clean after all they’d been through; even washing up aboard the _Enterprise_ had never left Henry feeling properly free of the smoke of Carnivale coupled with the grime of King William Land. There had been times aboard the _Enterprise_ when Henry would turn his head and swear he could smell old smoke on his clothes. 

The bath was also a blessing for his aching joints. He had been recovering well, but it was a slow process and he’d quite forgotten how nice just sitting in a bath could be. 

At the sound of footsteps approaching, Henry blinked his eyes open again, smiling as John sat himself on a stool next to the tub. 

“Would you like me to help you wash?” John asked.

“Please,” Henry murmured. The warmth of the water had already made him feel so sleepy, he wasn’t sure he would stay awake long enough to do it himself. Of course, he imagined he was just as—if not more—likely to fall asleep with John doing it. “Will you talk to me?”

John leaned in to press a kiss to Henry’s forehead. “Of course.”

John was ever so gentle as he began washing over Henry’s limbs, and Henry let his eyes fall shut again as John began talking about what they could do now that they were home safe. 

“Captain Fitzjames said he’d be willing to help me make the right connections to start up a small bookshop,” John said, running the soapy cloth carefully, but firmly, over Henry’s shoulder. 

Henry winced and John’s hand stilled. “It’s all right,” Henry mumbled. “Just tender.” He tilted his head to look up at John. “I’m not going to get clean if you stop at every part of me that hurts.” 

“But you will tell me if I’m pressing to hard?” John asked with a sigh. “Even a ship’s deck takes damage if too extensively holystoned, and you’re hardly a ship.” 

Henry chuckled softly. “Rather glad of that. Tell me more about the shop.”

“There’s no ‘shop’ as of yet,” John said, resuming his attentions to Henry’s shoulder and then down his chest. “But Captain Fitzjames seemed genuinely enthusiastic about getting me set up proper, said he’d keep an eye out for promising storefronts.” 

“That would be nice.” John deserved it, the chance to set up somewhere nice. Henry imagined he would go back to sea, eventually, but even so, having a home to come back to? Having _John_ to come back to? “Will there be a room for me? In the flat above the shop?”

“There will be a spare room, for propriety’s sake of course,” John continued, smiling. “But it’ll only get used when we have visitors, as I imagine anyone visiting and staying with us will already be well aware of our situation.”

“Does Captain Fitzjames know?” Henry asked. He didn’t know if Crozier knew, but he knew he and John had not been as discreet as they should have been at times toward the end. It had mattered so little when he’d thought he was going to die; he’d just wanted John near him. 

John nodded, drawing back a moment to shift around to Henry’s other side. “Yes, he does.”

Henry shifted to resettle himself so he could still see John but caught himself with a sharp gasp as the rim of the tub dug into one of the newly re-healed scars on his back. 

John was quick to react, reaching to catch Henry as he jerked forward to relieve the pressure and pain. “What do you need, Henry?”

Henry shook his head, breathing heavily. “A moment, I’ll be all right.” 

“Very well.” John didn’t sound convinced, but he didn’t argue.

As Henry got his breathing under control, he let himself lean into John, and John chuckled fondly. “Let me finish getting you washed and then we can go to bed and sleep for as long as we like.”

“But I’m tired, John,” Henry whined, intentionally petulant.

John laughed again, but he shifted to allow Henry easier access to his chest.

As Henry curled against John, he felt the careful swipe of the cloth down his back. He shivered reflexively at the warm water and cloth giving way to cold air, and it made John pause again. 

“Just a chill,” Henry murmured. “Not in any pain.” He was in a bit of a pain, but it was the normal background pain that had been plaguing him for months, nothing John could help. 

The water had gone tepid by the time John deemed Henry “fully and properly clean” and helped him out of the tub. Henry still felt unsteady on his legs and was grateful when John stayed near to help steady him as he toweled himself off. 

John left him briefly, as Henry was rubbing his hair dry, to fetch a clean nightshirt. “Can you dress yourself?” He asked, and while his tone was teasing, his eye remained concerned. 

“Yes,” Henry assured him. He kissed John on the cheek. “And I can get into bed myself, so take advantage of the water before it goes cold.”

John sighed, pressing the shirt into Henry’s hands. “If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure, John,” Henry said with a broad, if tired, smile. “Take advantage of the comforts you’ve insisted on for me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Nodding slowly, John relinquished his grip on the shirt, leaving Henry to get dress while he undressed. 

Henry did need to sit down on the bed before he pulled on the shirt, but he got it on with little issue and less pain, which was an improvement from how difficult _undressing_ had been. When he was finished, he sat and watched John as he finished removing his clothes and climbed into the tub. 

“Lay down, Henry,” John admonished lightly, but Henry just grinned. 

“I’d rather wait for you.” While he was exhausted, he didn’t want to fall asleep alone, and he knew he would fall asleep in an instant as soon as he laid down. 

John’s brow furrowed and for a moment, he looked like he might make some objection, but then he sighed and grabbed for the soap and cloth. “I’ll just have to hurry then.” 

John was true to his word and it was really only a matter of minutes before he was climbing out of the tub and rubbing himself dry with Henry’s damp towel. 

“You could have taken more time than that,” Henry mumbled as John shrugged into his own night shirt and joined Henry on the bed. 

“I could have,” John agreed. “But I want to see you resting, and I can hardly complain about sharing a bed with you.” 

Henry could feel his eyes drooping as soon as his head hit the pillow and by the time John had pulled the covers over them Henry had already begun to drift. 

“Love you,” he mumbled against John’s chest as John pulled him close.

“I love you too, Henry,” John replied softly, pressing a kiss to the top of Henry’s head. “Now rest.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Bridgens' words about holystoning a deck being damaging if done too much is in reference to the fact that holystoning wears the deck down, meaning that after a certain point the decks have to be replaced. [Wikipedia cites it as the reason why the U.S. Navy banned holystoning.](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Holystone#United_States_Navy)


End file.
